Crimson Within the Eye
by TennyoAngel711
Summary: A lord has turned up dead in England, a man vowing vengeance on England has turned up in Port Royal for William Turner. A man who Jack knows rather well and vice versa. It is a man that holds the key to a past never explored, and darker magic...
1. Stone

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Author: See!!!! Didn't I say I was writing!? See! I really like this idea, a lot! 

Anyway, I'm assuming dates, the closest thing I've studied about the Caribbean is the slave trade. I know Port Royal sank and I'm trying to place POTC way before that…*eep* So please don't criticize me for lack of historical accuracy. You will see our trio come together, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own POTC.

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Lord Henry Farnsworth kept his place at his desk. Pudgy fingers continued to tap the oak desk in a silent tune that only he could know. The man's eyes dodged from the several scrutinizing eyes of the inquisitors to the documents that rested before him. They were the accusations the men had brought to him, accusations that could very well take his title away from him. In the center of the uniformed men was one who stood out from nobles and soldiers so clean and uniformed. His face was thin and gaunt, almost as though wax had been poured over blood, muscle, and bone and stretched over. The waxy look made him appear much older than he was, for he had barely been in the age of adulthood for three years. With his face dirtied, scars barely healed, and deadened steel eyes, he looked to be lost in both physical and mental realms. 

My Lord, Spain has brought to England one of their people who has committed heinous acts against Spain," one of the uniformed men stated, "This man has been brought forth on the charges of targeting Spanish ships en-route through the Atlantic from orders of our country."

Farnsworth took a greater inhale of air at these words. He felt chilled beads of sweat break out and the air around him become more of a challenge to breathe in. Unconsciously, he cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. During this entire conversation, the accused man kept his eyes locked onto the lord's, making the air around him even denser.

"Senor Renaldo," Farnsworth said hoarsely, making his accent more apparent, "I am perfectly aware of the charges this man has been brought on."

"Then you are aware of the statements he has made?" the Senor inquired with his moustache twitching.

Farnsworth nodded to this.

"And what do you to say to this my lord?"

Farnsworth took another shaky breath, "I say…" he began, his voice unsteady, "That this man's accusations are purely false. England has no reason for attacking Spanish ships so suddenly and without reason."

The man in question exhibited the first obvious sign of emotion at Lord Farnsworth's words. His eyes had widened, and his mouth hung open as though someone had clasped their hands around his neck and taken his air supply. Disbelief and horror were streaked across his face as plain as the sun. At that moment he struggled against his captors, trying to shake them off. His resistance only resulted in his beating, bringing more unease to Farnsworth.

"If anything," the man said, his voice presenting more power, "This man," Farnsworth stretched his arm straight out with index finger pointed towards the prisoner, "Is nothing more than a traitor to England, his family has told me themselves that they have no son," he paused for just a moment to emphasize his point, "England gives him to Spain for you to judge…"

The man's resolve seemed to take a definite upturn from his subdued manner as his struggles resumed, "You lying bastard!" the man cried aloud to the lord, "I was willing to do anything for this country! Anything!" he continued to struggle, "You, my family! You'll all pay, I swear it, and you'll all pay for this!"

As the man was dragged from Farnsworth's sights, he continued spitting words of hate and vengeance to the Lord. To Farnsworth, this man was as soon as gone, nothing to worry about…

Absolutely nothing.

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Years later, 1668, England

The man smirked as he plunged the knife down, crimson liquid splashing upon his cloaked body. He felt all sorts of emotions rush through his body as he plunged the bladed object downward over and over. 

_Slash…_

Ecstasy…

_Jab…_

Completion…

__

Stab…

And Hate

At last his work was done; he tossed the object aside and washed his hands of the blood. He spat upon the body that he had destroyed. As he departed the room, he uttered one word.

"Turner…"

The door closed and the candle extinguished itself. 

And during the whole time, the lifeless body of Lord Henry Farnsworth stared unfocused with dead eyes. His eyes half lidded, odd indeed for a dead person, and only one word whispering throughout his departed mind.

_Stone…_

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Port Royal, 1668

It was another uneventful summer's day on the island of Port Royal. The small island that had once been ransacked by those of the Black Pearl and their Captain Barbossa had recovered from the incident. Mind you, the town hadn't recovered enough of course. A year had fled by since the incident, and the residents themselves had banned together to help repair the damage done to their beautiful port town. Of course, they had to, England was very wary of giving them assistance after hearing that pirates ransacked the town and that the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow had eluded them not once but twice. Yes, his Royal Highness had been utterly furious and it had placed Governor Swann in a rather tight spot. Residents of the mansion could be so lucky enough to hear him ranting up and down the hallways muttering, "Sparrow…in love with blacksmith…Elizabeth…" on a consistent basis. No one paid heed to these words of course. He had been the one to allow Sparrow to go.

Today had been actually a rather quiet day. Since most of the shops were up and running the people took their own personal holiday from the busy rebuilding to do something more recreational. Whether it be stopping by the baker's for some pastries or promenading about the town watching the beautiful scenery one could only find in the Caribbean, it was soothing to the soul and good for the body. However, there was one shop though where work was as plain as ever, the smithy. Not only had William Turner II taken on the duties that a once sober Mister Brown had carried, but he had also spent the days fervently working with the men on construction. That in itself was enough work, but he had been working hard to keep up on order that had unexpectedly popped up. It seemed that new weaponry was required and with Mister Brown rather…_indisposed_; it had been up to Will to fill in those orders. 

Knowing this, it was easy to know what was going on within the smithy at that very moment. Easily, one could decipher that the constant clanging was that of a young blacksmith hammering upon a blade. Sweat ridden and exhaustion clearly written upon his face, he paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow and tuck back a curled lock. He had been working hours on end for these new swords and the late nights were starting to take their toll upon him. 

**__**

Pound, pound…

He had grown quite accustomed to the sound of clanging metal, the smell of burning metal, the smell of hay and donkey, and the stuffiness of the smithy. Yet, there was one thing he could not be used to, the lack of his beloved…

_Elizabeth_

He had been insanely busy as of late that he had been able to see her as much as he'd have liked to. It wasn't that he was the hardworking man and that she was the dainty rich girl. Elizabeth had probably worked just as hard as or even harder than any other woman in Port Royal. Orphans that had been made in the invasion of the towns had no place to go, and she had demanded that her father open their large estate to them until the orphanage had been built on to. At least with construction going on he had been able to see her for she brought food to hungry workers. Also, she had gone under the tutelage of the good physician to help take care of patience that did not require so much attention as others.

He set down the hammer and placed the newly formed blade to the side where it could cool. The fatigue in his body took a definite upturn and the need to sit had become greater than ever. So, he took a seat and felt that he couldn't rise. The arduous process he went through to make all those swords left him exhausted. Even as the sound of knocking up the door struck his ears, he found he couldn't rise.

With a groan and an arm rising to cover his eyes he sight, "It's open!" he cried, still resting on the chair. 

I daresay Mister Turner," the smooth, sophisticated voice that spoke caused Will to uncover his eyes and sit up, "Is that any way to treat your fiancée?"

Elizabeth Swann stepped into the smithy with a grin widening her rose colored lips. At that moment Will's own brown eyes absorbed ever feature of his beloveds from her curled copper hair down to her shoes. The sight of her gave him to vigor to stand and see her. Slowly, with support from the chair, he rose to greet her with a gentle smile upon his face of pure love.

"My apologies," he spoke in subdued voice.

The young heiress was no stranger to William Turner, ten years of his company was enough to teach her about him. She could tell what he was feeling and how he was feeling from his movements and his eyes. His eyes gave away all, whether they were burning with an intense passion or cooled down, showing nothing but kindness, they gave him away. At this moment, he was exhausted, overworked, and not taking care of himself. 

She quickened her pace not stopping till they were face to face, eye to eye, "Will…" she brought up her own hand to cup his sweat laden cheek to feel great warmth, "You have been working yourself to death," and she gave him a peck on the lips.

He returned her kiss and broke away gently, "There's no need to worry Elizabeth, I'm just a bit fatigued." 

_Bit fatigued my stockings_, she retorted mentally. He never was one to show his pain. At age thirteen they had been walking about the rocks and it wasn't until he slipped from exhaustion that she found blood staining an old bandage. It had turned out that he had cut himself during chores earlier, she had been furious that he never complained about it. 

_"I look forward to your visits, Miss Swann." _He had said. 

Naturally he wouldn't be any different, that's why she was here. She would care for him with all her heart, that idea alone was enough to make her giggle with anticipation to become his wife. 

"So Will Turner," her gentle voice ebbing away and being replaced by a stern, orderly tone, "You will rest," she took hold of his hand and dragged him upstairs to his room, to where the water washbasin was, "You will clean your dirty face," she cooed and brought the wet cloth up to massage his dirtied face, "And relax for the rest of the day."

The way she stroked the cool cloth against his face practically lulled him into a sleepy cocoon. He was almost ready to mumble a soft "mmhmm" and collapse onto his bed. However, his duties as a blacksmith weighed heavily on his shoulders, snapping him out of his blanket of comfort.

"No I cannot," he protested in sluggish panic.

"You can," she assured him with both hands now on his shoulders, pushing him towards the bed, "And you will Mister Turner. Port Royal can live a day without her young blacksmith toiling away and making himself sick."

"There are orders to be finished," he begged, "Orders that cannot be ignored."

Elizabeth turned deaf ears to his words, "You will have your lunch. Then, you will walk with me," it was statement, not a question, "fresh air will be good for you, and sun. Then we will return and you will get some much needed and much deserved rest. You will not touch any hammers or swords for the rest of the day."

"Elizabeth, I have nothing good for you to eat," he hardly had anything good for himself to eat.

She smiled knowingly at this, placing before him a basket of foods, "I know that."

"Maybe I could finish one more order, then could I…"

Immediately, Elizabeth pushed him onto the bed as she set out the food. He had given up protesting to her demands and went lax on the bed. She smiled with amber eyes alight in love as she unraveled the food. As the scent of freshly cooked food struck his nostrils, Will felt his mouth water when the rich scent seeped into his nostrils. As Elizabeth watched him sit up, her lips widened at his sight. 

"Come on Will, you need to eat."

It wasn't a candlelit meal by the stars, but it was perfect for him and wonderful for her. At last she could sit with him, her love. She couldn't help but hold his hand, knowing that he was safe here. She had almost lost him, and that had been too close. Never again did she want to come so close to losing him. Never again. Jack Sparrow hadn't come to see them in the past year, and she took that as a good sign. It was a sign that all was well, that no danger would come to Will. 

_Of course, it would be lovely to see Jack again…still, I'd rather have Will safe_

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Governor Swann stood outside his balcony, watching the ocean wave lap back and forth. Truly, he felt as exhausted as ever, not only from duties as governor but from being a father as well. He had been on the receiving end of all sorts of grief from all ends. England sending him messages of heightening security about the port town, a result of allowing Jack Sparrow to escape no doubt. He spent many days arguing with his own daughter about almost everything and anything. William Turner was indeed a fine young man, a perfect candidate that most fathers would consider for a son-in-law. Gentlemen, a skilled blacksmith, an excellent swordsman, a brave man, positively devoted to Elizabeth, and just. One minor detail though…

_Son of a pirate, assisted in the commandeering of a ship, and the intervened in the hanging of a pirate._

Pirate, pirate, pirate. 

The boy screamed pirate! True, Weatherby Swann had never been one to point fingers, especially on young William Turner of all people. He knew the lad for as long as Elizabeth had when the boy had literally come on board in their lives. He had always been shy, particularly around Elizabeth. The Governor had let the two young ones play together for there was no one else her age to play with her. He had hoped that their childish delusions would disappear as they aged, but alas they did not. He knew Will still fancied Elizabeth, but living at the smithy he had learned his place in society and kept his feelings to himself. While his daughter continued to be ever so cheeky with him…

_And now I am positive they wish to marry…_

Yes, he wanted his only child's happiness, what father wouldn't? It's just that he hadn't planned on Elizabeth marrying someone so out of her class. She was happy, but would she always be happy? Could Will Turner, the blacksmith really take care of his little girl? Here in Port Royal where pirates lay when jolly old England…

He chuckled at catching his own self off guard.

How could one forget England? He couldn't for it had been where he had found Annabelle, where he had wed her, where she had given birth to Elizabeth, and where she had died. When the monarchy had sent him to Port Royal, it had been an exciting change, a way to escape from the place where Annabelle's ghost had haunted him so. He couldn't raise Elizabeth here when he himself was so distracted by the land. Instead of cloudy skies there were clear blue and sunset rose skies. Rain and chilly eves had been curtained by the humidity of the tropics. He knew it was here he could raise Elizabeth and here she had grown. 

_No matter whom she married_

"Governor?" the air of thought was pierced by the voice of a timid child.

Swann muttered a few unintelligible phrases before even knowing the girl had come, "Mm, yes Amelia?" he said with a pleasant almost parental tone.

The young lady, barely out of childhood blushed as she handed him an envelope, "A letter had been sent to you from England," sure enough with a grateful smile he saw the letter in his hand was sealed with the royal crest. 

"Thank you Amelia."

Weatherby Swann had come to find the girl quite sweet. If he had ever had another daughter maybe she would be more similar to Amelia. The girl was kind and gentle, as most of his servants were. However, being the gentleman of the house, he worked more with the butlers and such rather than seeing the maidservants. Though by appearance and in situations of great danger Weatherby appeared to be a bumbling fool, really he wasn't. One cannot simply blame a man for hiding in a time of danger for it is a human's nature to run. He was a decent man, and Amelia respected him greatly, because he was a parental towards her.

So Swann held the letter from the English Crown in his hand, his eyebrows creasing as he contemplated on what this letter could be. Most of what he received from his old home had been nothing but mad bantering of Captain Jack Sparrow, the town of Port Royal, Sparrow, the Black Pearl…

_Did I mention Sparrow?_

Currently, he wasn't quite in the mood to listen to his royal majesty chastise him to the grave. The frustration seething through Swann's veins was clearly visible as he began to almost shred the envelope. However, composure soon triumphed over less pleasant emotions. There was no need to upset the young girl, so he returned to opening the letter in a more tentative manner. 

"So tell me Amelia, you wouldn't happen to know if this letter brings pleasant or unpleasant news?" the governor inquired as he opened the envelope.

"I-I'm not sure sir," the servant replied with a quivering voice typical of her, "But I heard sailors at the dock speaking about some sort of unrest…"

Weatherby let out an inaudible mumble at this, "Hmm, I fear that anymore bad news and Port Royal will have to find herself another Governor."

"I apologize Governor."

"Oh pish posh, pish posh Amelia," he responded with a wave of his hand, "That's all it is with this bloody conversing."

Admits the exchange of words, he had at last opened the envelope. There was less writing than usual, which could possibly be a more positive sign. Usually the court sent a few words telling that if Port Royal didn't shape up on the trade route that she could expect no assistance in further problems. His own eyes clouded with exhaustion skimmed the yellow tinted paper, until he saw one word that caught his eye…

**_Murdered_**

He felt the worst of chills overcome his body when he saw these words. "Murder" was a word most foul indeed, but nothing foreign to Europe or the Caribbean. So whatever was going on, it was urgent and it was close to him.

_Weatherby,_ the letter began with his first name.

__

Weatherby,

I apologize for sending this, but it is your right to know what has been going on.

England is well, but it will not last. One week ago, Lord Henry Farnsworth was found murdered. The coroner stated that it had been due to several stab wounds all over the body. This in itself is horrifying for you know quite well that Farnsworth has been retired for quite some time now. So no one in the court is able to understand why someone would murder him. There was also a report of no struggle, it was as though Farnsworth had just lain on the ground and let the killer slash at him. 

Weatherby, this may be the work of pirates or some other vermin. It may be essential for Port Royal to be aware of this. You are his friend and Port Royal is your charge so you must be aware. If you have any information please write back as quickly as possible Weatherby…

The letter fell from his hand…

**Henry was dead**

An old friend of his had been savagely murdered. Henry had secrets, secrets associated directly with the crown itself. Farnsworth, York, Harding, Williams…all of them had been friends, mostly connected by Annabelle. Now, one was dead. He hadn't felt thus uneasy since Elizabeth's capture. Now this?

****

Time and space seemed to blur together as images in a puddle. He felt so numb, as though he was just standing there while nature continued its course. He hadn't even noticed the disappearance of Amelia that was soon replaced by the stiff postured Commodore. 

"Governor?"

Norrington's voice was quick and harsh, uncomfortably yanking Swann out of his dazed state. The Commodore had no time for such things. It wasn't that he held any animosity towards Swann, Elizabeth, or Turner, nothing like that at all. Norrington was most definitely too much of a gentleman for such dishonorable acts. He had to work more than ever due to England's complaints to increase guard around the island. 

Weatherby nodded his head dully, "Yes Commodore?" his voice was coarse with all of life's burdens.

"You called for me," Norrington stated expectantly. 

The elder of the two smiled, "Indeed I did."

Yes, indeed it was to Swann's relief that Norrington held nothing against him and his daughter. The man had the picturesque husband for Elizabeth in his mind. However, it was no he who was marrying the Commodore and nor did he intend to. He and his daughter were two very different people; the only thing that was relatively similar about them both was their stubbornness. Other than that, there were very few barely visible features one could find between them. Still, he could not understand what Elizabeth saw in Turner that wasn't present in Norrington…

_Love_

Something he had felt a long time ago, but now he felt grief. For there had been too many tragedies in his life, and another had struck.

"You have heard by now of England's news?" he inquired, in a more efficient tone.

The Commodore nodded to this, "I have."

"I was hoping to have a more lengthy conversation with you," Swann informed him, "However, due to recent events, I need not be as eloquent with my orders as usual?" he asked with a single busy eyebrow tipped upwards.

"I shall see that no pirate is able to set foot on this island without a bullet in their head and a noose around their necks," he proclaimed with all out passion, "I assure you Governor that we won't have a repeat from last year…"

At times Norrington could be a son, shy and unsure about emotions he had never felt. Sometimes, an officer, ready to defend Port Royal to the death. He had many faces, he had been prepared to take off the mask for Elizabeth but didn't. Yet, as devoted as he was, Edward Norrington would not be able to fix Port Royals problems.

Still, Swann smiled with the utmost confidence in the man, "I daresay that you will be the one to end piracy?" 

"One can only hope…"

"Commodore," Swann began with a tense look, "Do not try to take on that burden, just do what you are told."

"I shall, good day."

"Good day," Swann nodded.

In a quickened stride the Commodore left Weatherby Swann to his own grief. He had to walk forward, never look back for if he did it would only gain him death. The premonition of trouble seemed to tug at his inner conscience, as annoying as a fly. Of course he slapped these thoughts away just as he would do with a fly and continued on his way.

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While her own father wallowed in the despairing news that all officials faced, Elizabeth herself was basking in her current moment.

Her she was walking about the port hand in hand with the man she loved more than ever. He seemed to be more refreshed after eating a good meal, though his eyes still contained a bit of dullness from exhaustion. She could see that the fresh air had been good for Will. At last he had escaped the stifling air where he had worked for hours on end and out into the fresh sea tinted air. It was obvious enough that he had not had a decent meal when he devoured his lunch. 

The docks of the small island flourished with all sorts of trade ships docking and departing. Traders came carrying in all sorts of trades. It wasn't uncommon to see people strolling about the area, for it had an excellent view of the very sea that encased the islands. The sound of the waves swaying along with the warmth embrace of the sun created their perfect romantic walk. 

Then, a mysterious light overtook Will's face which did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth.

"What are you planning Mister Turner?" she asked with an enticing spark in her eyes.

He clasped both hands in his own and smiled, "Follow me."

They ran and _people stared… _

People stared, but they did cared. Both Will and Elizabeth had grown accustomed to the constant stares and whispers of the people. Whispers of classes, of blacksmiths to socialites, and of course _pirates_. It was something to be expected, so they did nothing but continue running down below the docks. 

"Will, what is it?" Elizabeth asked with a wide smile planted upon her face.

"I just though it would be nice for us to be away from the crowds…"

Something they both wanted, the idea of their privacy made her rose colored lips curl even higher, "Really?" she said wrapping her arms around her lover, "Well I dare not protest to that."

Their noses touched the other's, both not able to control their facial muscles. Both were positively beaming with emotion. Then, Elizabeth couldn't help but speak with her smile turned down to a frown.

"I shall not become a foolish girl under your gaze Mister Turner," she stated in a mock disciplinary manner.

The young Turner's eyes widened in false innocence at her words, "Is that so Miss Swann?"

"It is," she replied with eyebrows raised before relaxing and giving him a soft kiss, "You do not know how lovely it is to do this," she spoke in a tender, loving voice, "We have not been together for quite some time…"

"I know Elizabeth, but I have responsibilities that cannot be ignoring," he replied, tightening his loving hold on her.

She smiled, but still had to continue, "But Will, you do not have to throw yourself into your work. You do not have to prove yourself to anyone…especially my father."

Something Will had been reassured over countless times. He knew Elizabeth's love ran deep, but he didn't want to force her to break away from her only family. He had no ties to his family, not knowing anything of his father or his mother. In fact his mother never spoke of her family, so Will knew nothing of family. However, Governor Swann exhibited no hints of approving of him as Elizabeth's husband. 

"I know Elizabeth, but it's not that…"

_Completely and utterly untrue_, Will thought to himself.

Elizabeth seemed to know this too, "Will, why do you torture yourself? We do not need this, we should be happy, we should be…" she stopped herself from saying the one thing she wanted more than anything, _marriage_, "I mean we shouldn't have to worry, you shouldn't have to worry."

Will's own dark pools delved into Elizabeth's own amber eyes. Both could see a love that no longer was forced to go unrequited. They way they expressed it was of pure, chaste kisses and soft touches that never went too deep. Will was too much of a gentleman to allow his hands to wander, and sometimes she wished he wouldn't. Yet, here they were, together.

"If I must worry than I would rather it is about you," he whispered.

And they kissed…

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_And the two parted from their kiss._

_The man, barely into manhood, who bared familiarity towards a not yet born William Turner II, looked up at the woman._

_"Gabby?" he asked, with a gentle voice not usually used by him, "You alright?"_

_The young lady's breathing came out in strides as she touched her fingers to her lips. Her ivory silk face was tinted with deep red and her normally calm exterior had vanished. The only thing kept was her curled chestnut locks while her crystal cerulean eyes widened as they eyed the man. Still her fingers caressed her lips, the shock of feeling something such as that wander in her lips…_

_"What…what," her voice came out in a loud whisper, "What on earth was that Bill?"_

_With a chuckle and a mad grin, Bill Turner cupped his love's cheek with his own coarse hand, "That my dear was a French-Kiss, where you use your tongue, love."_

The blush that had overcome her seemed to spread, "My," she stated, still winded from this "French-kiss", "The French most certainly do love to kiss…"

Though a buccaneer, William (otherwise known as Bill) Turner had learned to be a gentleman. Except for that kiss that both had been completely engrossed in. He held her hands tightly with apologetic eyes.

"Gabrielle, I'm sorry, did I go too fast?" he asked, sounding as a true proper Englishman would.

Immediately she shook her head side to side, bouncing the waves of hair, "No, no," she spoke hastily, "It's just," the blush had overcome her yet again, "Well…you're the first man I've really ever felt this way for and that was so new…but I'm sure you've done it before."

"Kissing?" Bill stated, "Yes, but I haven't kissed like that," he finished with his signature grin, "Something I heard about."

"It was wonderful, but perhaps we could save it for later," she giggled, "This is still new to me."

"And it would be bad for such a scallywag to influence such a proper lady, eh?"

Gabrielle frowned at this, "Do not quote my father Bill Turner," she whispered as she pressed her forehead against him, "I am the one who chooses, not him, even if I must forsake my family."

"Let's hope that is not the case."

"To hell with it," she mumbled in an innocent manner.

"Well," Bill said, positively shocked by this, "Maybe you need to meet Jack."

"Jack…"

She tested the name on her tongue, "Well then."

"I suppose I should go then, shouldn't I?"

They share one last kiss, hoping to hold on to each other for just a little longer. Still, they had to break away and they did. At that moment, Bill placed his lips beside her ear.

"Gabrielle York," he whispered, "I will marry you."

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Well, I hope you enjoyed it! Remember, there's more coming and Jack will be appearing soon. Until then, goodbye!


	2. Il visite

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Author's Notes: Oh dear fish sticks! It's here! At last, oh my gosh, I feel so happy J It has been hectic these past months but now life seems to be better. Well, I am so sorry for the wait and I hope this will help. There have been some horrible events taking place and it's drained me silly. Also I am a natural procrastinator so…you can imagine. Enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not claim to have any rights to Pirates, I do not own it and I am making no profit from this fic. 

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He watched the sunset that decked the evening sky. It was this that was one of many reasons he had become a pirate. He took yet another inhale of the saltwater air that he had been born into. The peace and serenity that blanketed him was nothing short of pure bliss. It was the only kind of comfort only ole Pearl could give him. No beautiful and fair noble woman or any voluptuous whore could give him this. He was captain of the Black Pearl, he owned this ship.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," he murmured to himself with a bit of satisfaction. 

"Still babbling on about your name, it's been years Jack…"

The wildly dressed man sat up from his position the face the man he called friend. Jack couldn't help but give Bill Turner one his so-called looks with puppy dog eyes lined in black expand and mustached lips pursed. Then, he released all tension and grinned.

"Can't help it mate, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he spoke with every word ringing with joy, "It's hard not to repeat my name, and I haven't had this beauty for very long," he said as he admired his prize, "You have to admit she's beautiful Bill."

"Not the most though," Bill stated, challenging his captain. 

Jack walked closer to Bill with his own amber eyes on Bill's, "Ah yes, you married a landlubber," he said almost as though it were a crime, "A rich landlubber…"

"It's not a crime Jack," Bill said defensively, "It's called love."

Jack however did not understand the true concept of love between a man and a woman. He had never truly felt pure true love, only passionate lust. The act of love making had been nothing more than an adrenaline rush for him, never anything more. Actions running on pure love were so pure, so permanently fulfilling while quick whoring left emptiness. Jack had accepted that, he understood that he would never find love, that the sea was his only love. Gabrielle was a nice lady, oddly timid though. She completely clashed with Bootstrap's rambunctious personality, but she seemed able to release her might. Not weak, just gentle, and sincere. That's what got Jack going, the fact that her upbringing hadn't touched her, the fact that she had fallen for the lowest of low because of Bill's inner personality instead of his dashing looks. That her heart was swayed by words and actions alone.

She hadn't even seen his face when she first met him…

He'd never understand…

Jack snapped out of his thoughts, his friend was still by his side and not with his bonny lass. Now, his eyes lingered on a strange sight in Bill's palm. From what he could tell (since Bill's hand covered most of it), it was a carved piece of soap. With his undying curiosity and inimitable pick pocketing (or in this case thieving) skills, he swiped the object from Bootstrap's hands. Bill attempted to take it back, grabbing the mediocre object as though it were more precious than any other treasure the pair had ever taken. The object was nothing more than a carving of a duck, a fine carving, but a soap duck.

"What the hell is this?" Jack asked, bemused at why this could be so precious to his friend. 

"That my friend," Bill began in an oddly poetic style as he took the carving from Jack, "Is the product of a love between a man and a woman.

Jack turned his eyes to Bill as though the man were mad, "A duck made out of soap?"

"No Jack," the man chuckled, still admiring the duck, "Something better," he said, beaming with joy, "A son."

"Hmm?" Jack asked, eyebrows so high they looked ready to fall of his head.

"My son," he paused for a moment with a wide smile making itself visible, "William," Bill finished dreamily, eyes locked on the object, "He made it, only six and he carved it all by himself," the way Bill spoke it was as if Will had created the greatest masterpiece, "I tell you that boy has talent, good with his hands if I do say so myself…"

The captain swung his arm around his friend's should, "Must get that from his father," he grinned wholeheartedly.

"I doubt he'll use them like I did though…" Bill chuckled bitterly.

"True," Jack nodded, "You've been put down like a dog ever since you married."

"Am not," he protested, "and Will's too much like his mom in spirit to use his hands like that," the man couldn't help but grin madly as memories of his son slipped into his mind, "He will be a fine man, definitely one to make a name for himself." 

At these words, Bill spotted a mad gleam and Jack eyes. He had known the young captain for too long to not wonder what that look was. He knew that he had to stop what whatever was brewing in his eccentric's friend mind.

"Jack…" Bill said warily, "Not your successor," his tone became rather harsh spoken.

"Come now Bill…"

"I do not want Will to be a pirate."

The voice that William Turner I used when he uttered those words was harsher and swifter than any whip or brand that had been scarred upon Jack's skin. His eyes were burning, his face was set, and he was completely serious. It had been surprising enough for Jack that Bill had committed himself to one woman for the rest of his life, but a child? Jack actually liked the idea of a little pirate around the Pearl. Hell, he probably wouldn't be able to have a child so it would only be right that Bootstrap's lad would take over. Yet, Bill had even said no to that. All he could do was place a calloused hand on Bill's shoulder.

"Calm down Bill…"

His friend let out a breath of air, "Jack, I don't want Will to live the life I had to live," he said with his voice almost cracking. 

"You turned out fine though mate," Jack reasoned.

"I don't want Will hating his father…having his father torn away from him at so young an age that he'll only remember him as a murderer."

Of course, Bill's past, "But we're no killers, Bill."

This was true. In fact, as far as pirates go, Jack and Bill were almost pure. Well, currently, in the past they hadn't been so good. Still, they never raped a soul…never took away a woman's purity in such a vile manner. Of course, there were still other things that were still just a vile.

"We're not exactly Samaritans are we Jack?" Bill argued with a harsh bitterness, "I can't have Will seeing that, I don't want him to think of me like that. Gabrielle accepted it, but Will shouldn't have to."

The subject of Gabrielle and Will had been heavy on Jack's mind. When a pirate took a bride there were usually two options set before him, take the woman to the sea or settle down with the woman on land. That very plight had plagued Jack's mind constantly, and now it seemed time for him to say something.

"When you go back, right mate?" Jack managed to say. 

_Bill's face formed into a questionable look at his friend's words, "What do you mean Jack?"_

"I mean Bill, are you going to become one of those landlubbers yourself?" he said it as though it were a crime, "Going off to be with your bonnie lass?"

Now Bootstrap understood. He understood Jack's reason for questioning about his family. For once in his life Captain Jack Sparrow had found someone he could trust, he found companionship in Bill. Now he was in danger of Bill leaving the very life he knew for another. The whole idea of this newfound brotherhood between them had been something for Bill, and he couldn't help but smile.

"I didn't know you cared Sparrow," Bill mused with a smirk, a smirk that only on Bill's face, could break the tension.

"Bloody hell man would you shut up," Jack ordered, batting away Bill's arm, "Damn family man."

The silence made itself present, with both men leaning against the railing.

"You know Jack," Bill began, "I love Gabrielle, and she loves me…"

Here it came, here was the part where Bill would muse over his torment and then abandon him.

"She loved me even with me face all sliced up, didn't need to see the face that wooed a thousand whores," he couldn't help but laugh at his words, "She gave me everything."

Indeed, for she had taken them in without question. 

"And we took everything from her didn't we Jack?" Bill asked with sorrow lining his eyes. 

"Wasn't our fault Bill," Jack assured him, "Some people just aren't cut out for it, some should never trust the crown," he caught himself before he rambled on, "We didn't start out like that, and we didn't do the privateering thing."

"True. Still…you know she still loved me and even gave me a son."

"Just make up your bloody mind Bill, land or sea!" Jack exploded.

Bill could only smile that calm and patient smile, "These things need explaining Jack," he stated standing completely upright, "I have Gabrielle and Will, yet I have my past," he sighed, "Gabrielle understands. She knows that I can't drop everything I've known…"

"Then you'll be staying!?" Jack shouted, almost as a child would.

Bill nodded, "Aye, but Jack."

"Aye?"

"Will is going to need a father, and Gabrielle a husband, I can't be by your side forever…"

No more words needed to be exchanged. For Bill would always be a man torn between his past and his future, never again to be whole. It was his fate…

So maybe drowning was better than this….

************************

_Present_

_…And really bad eggs_

It had been years since that conversation between himself and Bootstrap had taken place. Years had passed since Bill had disappeared, and yet so little time had passed since him and Bill's lad had broken the curse. With one problem gone another seemed to reappear, Will Turner II. 

_And what a problem indeed._

He hadn't expected to speak with Bootstrap's brat too much, his only goal in life had been to retake his beloved Pearl. Out of duty to Bootstrap he decided to check up on Will out of convenience then continue onward. Never had he imagined that Barbossa would be able to track down the coin to the small port town. He knew that it would happen though, that eventually Will would be drawn into the web that his father had unwittingly weaved for him. He knew Bill didn't know the dangers of that coin, hell, he didn't even know about the coin. Out of friendship and duty…

_And convenience_

…he had found the key to his ship. Yet, he had grown fond of the boy, would've liked to see him as a pirate. Mind you, he would've had to roughen up a bit. However, he was just like his father, finding true love. Just as Will had braved all to hasten to Elizabeth Swann's rescue, so would Bill for Gabby. Now Will would settle down, but he couldn't settle for long…

__

There is something coming, an old friend, he'll be looking for Will…

"Cap'n?"

Jack's attention turned elsewhere at the sound of a coarse voice. Joshamee Gibbs, old friend, old pirate, and old drunk stood behind his absent minded captain. Beside him was the ever vivacious Anamaria who seemed to have lost a touch of her at the moment. Her usually burning amber eyes had become softer than the waves, no witty insults to spark the firestorm of exchanges that should have taken place, nothing. In fact, she seemed to be giving Jack a sympathetic look in contrast to the common cold glare she usually gave him. The entire crew of the Pearl seemed to be rather subdued instead. 

"Aye Gibbs?" the tense voice of their captain stated, "What you be needing?" 

Joshamee wasn't sure whether or not to continue, but with a gulp of sea air he continued, "Just heard reports of _Specter's_ course, seems they're reaching their destination…" 

_That's not good_.

"Well, then we'll keep ours," Jack said, making it final, "Let's just hope we'll get there in time," he sighed, his voice laced with a great weight.

"Do you think he'll be expecting us Jack?" Anamaria asked, almost revealing a tinge of weakness.

The _him_ in question caused a torrent of shivers down the group's spines. Most of those present had not met this man, only Jack truly knew him. Still, those in his circle had heard of him and it was enough to chill the bones. So of course the ebony skinned beauty was nervous when stepping on the matter. The whole incident had only proven to pirates how cowardice the crown could be, and now they were paying for it.

"Don't know Ana."

It was the truth, how could he know? Jack hadn't even heard a wisp of information until this murder in England came up, so how would _he_ know about Jack? It was hard for Jack to admit that he was unsure, that he just didn't know. Whatever _he_ had been doing for so long, it had been something that Jack was most certainly unaware of. This Farnsworth, yes, Jack knew him and why he was killed. Still, it wasn't any easier to accept that. 

He cleared the cloud of thought from his mind, "Well," he said, attempting to muster any assurance, "Doesn't matter do it Ana?" 

She hesitated to answer for a moment, "Don't know Captain."

"You two," Gibbs said with false jubilance, swinging his arms around the pair, "We'll know soon enough."

And Jack wasn't in a hurry to know, except…

__

Turner

Apparently ever since Bootstrap departed, Jack had apparently become Turner's watcher. Of course, it was only right that he was. After all, anyone else who knew all the family's secrets were under either water or dirt. With these secrets seeming to become an even greater burden than before, Jack couldn't help but feel so heavy from the weight of it all. The need to escape to his cabin became even more tempting. So, with no obvious hint of his leaving, he continued to walk forward to his cabin. 

"I'm going in for a little nightcap," he said to the others.

Ana, positively fuming, paced forth, "Jack, it's not even sunset!"

"Then call it a daycap," he grinned and then exited the exterior of Pearl and went to the interior.

The inside of Jack's beloved had actually been quite livable. He kept most of the items that had been on the Pearl from Barbossa's reign, for they had been his. With the exception of a few trinkets all which had been either thrown overboard or sold. The bed was a soft wine color, but torn in several places. He had stolen the sheets after bedding a noble and numerous other things as well. Why should he not have some comforts in life? After all, as a pirate, his duty was to pillage and those winnings needed to go somewhere. 

Jack Sparrow took his place at his chair and table, just sitting, nothing more. Recent events now swam around him, and he didn't like one bit. As he took his seat, that's when it began…

_Stone…_

_Stone_

The whisper in his head wouldn't cease. He hadn't even been aware of the item that was out of place on his desk. It was right in front of him, yet he could not truly grasp the events around him. Everything had become a blur and all Captain Jack Sparrow could do was staring dumbly ahead as the whispers continued. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak…he could only hear. His sight was not his own, for all he could see was crimson red, just red. 

__

"Jack, they've got the Pearl and I'm not going to be living any longer…"

Stone…

"Jac-"

The voice tried to reach him, tried to rip through the cloud in the captain's mind. 

__

"Ja-"

Stone…

"You're stronger than this! You're going to live!"

The red was shrinking as oak brown flooded in. Soon, the red was nothing more than a shard, an insignificant shard pulsating with a dim light. The brown around the shard became more apparent with sketches of grain filling in. This was his desk, his wooden desk. Yes, he was in his cabin and he had been staring at…

__

A shard!?

A set of black eyebrows creased as he looked at the desk, "That shouldn't be there."

__

Quickly, he picked up the tiny object, holding it as if it were poisonous. His feet moved swiftly to the window moving as though his hand was on fire. He didn't even bother to take time to open the window, just punched his clenched hand through the window and dropped the cursed item into the ocean blue. 

He felt the weight life as the shard sank into the sea. Then, as he took his steps in strides, he saw something on the bed that could even make a man such as Sparrow's spine tingle. It just says there, the piece of paper. If the paper had eyes, Jack imagined that it would be gazing at him. However, inanimate object did not posses eyes so he went closer to look at the ink upon the paper. With every step it seemed the pounding in his chest heightened. 

_Red jewel_

It was him.

Then, one of those few emotions that Jack hardly ever felt came when he saw the words etched on the paper…

_"See you in Port Royal, Sparrow."_

************************

__

"I'm glad to have met you, Will…"

It was silent, a nice peaceful silence. It was a rare thing for Elizabeth to see Will resting so peacefully. In the past eight years she had known her love, she had only seen him resting so comfortably when he was still but a lad. Then, they both aged into adulthood just as any boy and girl would. Emotions a younger Elizabeth had never felt began to make themselves known to her in the strangest manner. Soon, she began to notice features about Will that she had never known before. She understood why those foolish girls would be giggling constantly every time they saw him. He was handsome and a gentleman and she wanted to be with him. 

Her father, however, brushed off these feelings as a simple infatuation. He just needed Elizabeth to concentrate more on her education, so he had her doing more work and seeing less of Will. Still, she continued to care for him despite her father's wishes. She understood his over protectiveness for her. It was odd for one such as her to fall for someone of a lower class, but she did and she wouldn't give up on him. 

_She didn't and now they were together…_

Indeed they were, and here he was, resting on his bed. Her fingers were brushing through his dark locks with as much tender care as possible. Their walk had been quite wonderful for she could tell from the look on his face that he was at peace being out of the shop. The stress he placed upon his shoulders was too much for him, it was something he shouldn't have to bear. Still, he worked nonstop, vying for her father's approval. Sitting here, watching him rest, it made her long for marriage more than anything at the moment. She knew what she wanted, she didn't care what her father thought, what anyone thought. Watching over the sleeping form of her lover just as she had done nine years ago, she couldn't help but feel some great euphoria well up inside her heart. The love she felt for him was strong, she knew that. 

Her amber orbs rested on the awakening figure as he stretched his arms outward. A tender moan escaped his lips as his eyelids lifted. She placed a hand on his chest and placed a tender kiss above his brow. When she broke away, she couldn't help but beam at the sight of him.

"Good morning sleepy head," she whispered, though they both were perfectly aware that it was nearing the evening.

"Elizabeth," he murmured drearily, rubbing his eyelids, "What are you still doing here?"

She placed a faux pout upon her face, "Do you not want me here Mister Turner?"

"No, no," he replied hurriedly, immediately sitting up on the bed, "It's just I thought you might be at the mansion," he held her arms closely as he spoke, "I'm glad you stayed."

"As am I," the Lady Swann responded with smile and a glow, "I should, after all…" she needed to say this, "I should hope to be living here someday," he didn't interrupt her, so she finished her words, "…by your side."

She flinched at the look on her lover's face. Will's unease was so obvious that a blind man could've felt it miles off. The subject of marriage was something neither Will nor Elizabeth had mentioned often. Will didn't because he feared what she would have to face. She would face losing everything, living her life in poverty, she didn't understand that. Elizabeth had only spoken so few times because of Will's hesitance which she was hoping would die away. Yet it still remained and their relationship seemed to be going nowhere. Now was the time to confess her longings to the man she loved.

"Will, I mean to say…I mean to say that it's been a year since you've actually confessed…" she wouldn't say love, it need not be said, "…to me, but you've done nothing more William Turner."

He clasped her hands tightly, with all kindness in his eyes, "Elizabeth, I will, I promise," and as he said this, his eyes burned with an inner passion, "But there is much that needs to be done, you know that."

"No ring," she answered with an air of bitterness.

"What?" Will inquired with a quizzical expression. 

"Will you have said that there is so much to be done, that you will eventually, but you have yet to do anything," she rose from her seat to declare the true seriousness of the situation, "Yet you have shown me no ring, you have not even proposed to me," her voice softened as these words spilled from her mouth, sadness blanketing them, "Tell me, do you ever intend for us to marry?"

He made no reply to this and Elizabeth's lips pursed together even tighter at this.

"Do you even want us to be together Will?"

"You know better than to ask me that…"

Her own stone cold face was set, "Can I truly know?" she sighed, "Is it my father? Has he said something? You shouldn't give a damn about what other people say Will."

"Maybe you should listen though Elizabeth!" he cried aloud, "Have you even thought about the consequences of what may come!?"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing, what she was seeing. Will standing up to meet her, trying to brush aside what she had been waiting for such a long time. Now he was saying there were consequences to their love, that she hadn't truly considered them. When her father gazed piercingly down at her the day Jack was almost hanged, was that not harsh enough? Spending days and months after that very moment in the same house as her father, barely exchanging words with him day after day! Still, she wanted to be with him but he didn't seem to understand that.

"I do not want to force you to give up anything," he said, keeping a hold on her hands. 

Still, the young lady couldn't help but keep her harsh disposition, "So you must give up us then?" she pushed his hands away with a cold brush, "It's not your decision Will, I am no child and I am not helpless. I have made my choice…"

"To leave your family!?" 

"To be with _you_," she corrected.

"You have a father Elizabeth, you have your family!" he shouted, "You cannot just walk away from that!"

"He will learn to accept us!" she explained, but her voice betrayed her, she was trying to convince herself. 

The young son of Bootstrap could not let her…"Do you know for sure that he'll accept us?" he asked her, receiving no answer, "I know what it's like to be alone, to be without family…and the emptiness it leaves cannot easily be mended. You shouldn't have to face this."

This was supposedly the moment where the curtain of misunderstanding would arise and all would be well for them both. Elizabeth would see that Will was only trying to protect her because he was forced to grow into manhood without a mother or a father. Yet, she was a woman now and she had her father to help her grow. As a woman, she was able to make her own decisions. Will did not see that at all, he had apparently decided that it was up to him to make her own decisions, to choose her own path. No more! She couldn't be here, holding him gently. Here they were together, not able to flaunt their love about because they were bound by marriage, and it pained her every waking moment. They wanted to hold each other, embrace, but couldn't because he would never propose. She couldn't take it anymore.

"I wouldn't face anything if it were up to you," she stated coldly, gazing icily at her soul mate, "If I am not coddled by father than it's you. Neither one of you seems to have realized that I am able to make up my own mind so you both feel that you must make up my mind for me."

She didn't mean to speak such words, but this was something that had been on her mind for so long. She closed the distance between the young Turner and herself, assuring him that her love was still there. However, she needed to leave, to think. 

"You should stop worrying about what my father thinks is best," and as she said this, her voice quivered and her eyes watered, "For once just think about your happiness, good day Will."

"Good day Elizabeth," he bided gently. 

With such an unhappy parting, Elizabeth Swann departed from the smithy leaving Will Turner alone. As soon as she left, the young man sighed and brushed back a stray lock from his head. He went to his drawer to pull out a small, ornately carved box. The designs that decorated the cover were lacings of flowers tied into vines, which alone was beautiful enough. Then, he opened the lid to reveal the loveliest of objects…

_A golden ring_

A golden ring that within it had several words engraved upon it. This was the object Elizabeth longed for and the object that Will had been longing to give her. To give her this would be the greatest honor he could ever have. Then, the cruel reality of life swept upon him as he held the ring and placed it back in its box to continue on with his work. 

************************

_Evening_

The night shift guards stood out near the docks of the small port town. In the past, the guards wouldn't have been as stiff. However, due to the attack courtesy of the Black Pearl, night rounds were much more secure. On this night though, only a single guard was beneath the docks. Sadly, on an eve of all eves, there was only one soldier making rounds that night. It was unfortunate that this poor man must take his duties and watch the sea for anything out of the ordinary alone on this night. He didn't seem to be shaking as most would do when sent on watch alone. 

Sometimes when one is at the prelude of a disaster, they say that person can feel so much tension that one could feel it in the air. It didn't feel like this for him. He was calm and composed, just holding his position. He was completely unaware of what would come until it came upon him.

_Footsteps_

"Hello?" the soldier spoke, trying to find the source of the sound. 

From the shadows the figure stepped forward, bringing more unease to the area. Everything around the guard seemed to be shaded a little darker as though to emphasize the intensity of it all. The figure's body shape was most definitely that of a man. 

"Excuse me sir?" the soldier inquired politely for he did not know if this was friend or foe, "Can I help you?"

The man made no reply to the soldier.

"Sir?"

The cloaked figure stepped forward, "Pardon me soldier," he finally said, his voice hoarse and heavy, "You wouldn't happen to know a William Turner would you?"

Anyone in Port Royal who didn't know William Turner had most likely been living beneath a rock for the past year. Ever since the escaped hanging of Captain Jack Sparrow, the young Turner's name had been rolled about on many tongues. He had become the greatest pastime of gossip for the socialites, but most citizens knew him as an honorable man who had braved all and hastened to the rescue of the governor's daughter. At the same time, those of snake tongues spoke of his assistance in the escape of Captain Jack Sparrow. However, his skill as a blacksmith was more greatly known than his run in with pirates and therefore most negative words were discarded. So, yes, the soldier was aware of William Turner.

"Indeed I do sir," he replied, as it was his duty to guide those lost, "He is a well known blacksmith in these parts, and courting the Governor's daughter I believe.

_A respectable lad, eh?_

The figure smirked beneath his cloak as the thought crossed his mind, "Is he now? So, I take it I'd find him residing at the smithy?"

"That's where he resides."

_Excellent_

From the inner area of his cloak the man withdrew something that the unsuspecting soldier did not see. All he heard was a small click.

"Thank you kind soldier but I'm afraid I am no longer in need of your services."

And with a brief talk and a quick shot, the soldier fell dead to the ground as the man continued onward to the Smithy.

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partheon: I believe it's very important to have the basis of the character down otherwise it's not the character you fall in love with. So I hope I'm still doing that with this chapter, I am concerned about Jack though. Thank you for reading and I am so sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

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Circe-Aten: Yay! Sometimes it's hard to write them because the movie has flat characteristics for them so you really have to look to find them. Hopefully this chapter was enjoyable for you!

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Hitokiri Elf slayer of evil: I'm glad you like it, thank you very much.

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Random: Muwahahaha! I have appeared! I'm sorry for the wait, but I'm back. Thank you for the review. 

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Well, I do need to work on other things but I am sorry for the wait. Thank you all for reading and really I do love to read reviews and I do listen!

Tennyo


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